


Similar

by Random_ag



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine, barely... barely.... god i fucking SUCK at this
Genre: Eska Is McFucking Spooked, Fluff, Siblings, niamh and kim are actually good parents its just that they didnt Talk, what the hell should i say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 16:28:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17625764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_ag/pseuds/Random_ag
Summary: or, 7 Feet Tall God-Killing Abomination Gets Scared Shitless By 5-Year-Old





	Similar

He stopped dead in his tracks and stared. All of his eagerness, as well as his face’s color, had been sucked down the drain.

 

It was like looking in a small mirror. A small mirror that didn’t reflect his current position and instead was pointing its beady, bicolored irises straight into his eye sockets as if to read his soul, while its terrifyingly familiar visage awoke night terrors that would have assaulted him as soon as he’d been under the covers.

 

He arched his back agonizingly slowly, like a cat getting ready to fight.

 

His bare feet made no noise as he ran away as fast as he could and retreated slamming into his father’s arms, effectively forcing him onto the sofa.

 

Kim patted his back, trying to get the oxygen knocked out of him back into his lungs: “Woah, woah, easy there. I’m here,” he reassured him as the bony arms wrapped around his ribcage with a couple of whimpers, “I’m here, I’m real, everything’s ok. Did you take your meds? Is it just a figure?”

His adopted son nodded twice, curling up against him. He kissed the top of his head, fingertips tracing calming patterns on his visible spine: “Ok. It’s alright, I’m here, I’ll help. Want me to call Niamh?”

“Yer wife’s ahead of ya,  _cushlamachree_.” an Irish voice interrupted him from behind as Niamh combed Eska’s hair through her fingers comfortingly, lending him another piece of reality to grab and hold on tight.

“Calm down, baby. Yer folks are here for ya.” she whispered soothingly. Her son’s shoulders fell slightly, the little bit less tensed up, although still very wary. “Can you describe what ye saw to us? What it looks like?”

 

Eska groaned softly, shifting in his father’s lap. It hurt a little, having to tell these things, it gave him headaches and fever-like shivers running thorugh his body, it always did, but it helped.

 

“Small…” he muttered, “Child… Amber eye… Other blue. Like me. A lot, like me.”

 

There was a bit of silence between his voice dying out and the softly spoken, but filled with passion ‘fuck’ that briefly escaped his mother’s lips. Judging by how tight he curled into a ball and crushed into his father’s stomach one could have easily believed he was trying to make the other’s body absorb him, to protect himself from the threat the quiet curse seemed to foretell.

Pretty understandably, Kim was not particularly thrilled about the existence of such an option.

 

The obsessive curling only stopped at the sound of a pair of pit-patting bare feet coming relatively close to the livingroom’s door before stopping all of a sudden.

 

Eska could feel those beady eyes drilling into his many thin layers of skin, bones, guts and muscles, and cutting his breath. The possibility of that person, of  _Him_ , being there in that moment, in the same room, real, not a fabbrication of his mind, scared him beyond belief.

 

“I just realized we did tell you we thought of getting you a sibling, but nev’r got to have you meet them. So… This whole thing’s on us.” Niamh considered just above his head, in a manner so casual it almost earned a strained giggle.

 

Sibling. It gave him goosebumps. It implied a similar face, similar voice, similar body, similar shapes, similar dna, similar cells, similar blood, similar relatives, same parents, same house, same a lot of things.

Same was horrible.

He was glad he didn’t look like Niamh or Kim at all. That people looked at him weirdly when they introduced him as their son. They had very different shapes. Very different voices. Very different colors, heights, weights, somatic traits, signs. The more dissimilar, the better.

He’d seen the little mirror reflect his face. The face he barely looked at. He hated it. It looked too much like someone else. If they looked at his face, they could have recognized him. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want that.

 

“Please, just a second. He really wants to see you…”

Eska turned shivering like a leaf, just enough to spy him behind his shoulder.

 

His eyes were a bit more oval. And their corners pointed up.

 

He stopped trembling so hard, turning a little more.

“Want to hold his hand, to make sure he’s here?” Kim whispered again.

It took some seconds, but his son’s fingers finally released his shirt, although slightly unsure and still distinctly terrified. He had to hold one of his palms gently to assure him he was safe. The child just behind Eska looked at it without a single emotion being clearly displayed on his small visage.

“Can he hold yer hand, Thaische?” Niamh asked him.

 

“Why?”

 

His voice was much softer and smoother than his. Like some sort of fabric.

 

“Oh, y’ know, he wants t’ know f’r sure if yer real or not.”

 

The child nodded, his chestnut hair flying all over the place, understanding perfectly as if the situation had been presented to him several times before. His hand was so small. A little plump too. Eska cradled it a bit in his own, pressing it as gently as he could.

It was warm.

Eska grabbed him gently from under the armpits before the other two adults could tell him not to, and his new brother didn’t flinch or feel uncomfortable as he was sat down on the sofa just inches before the dressed up skeleton. His skinny cinnamon finger traced the mask’s wooden teeth while much bigger fingertips carefully took in his features, like his nose that looked as if it had broke once, or the thousands of freckles plaguing his peachfuzzed cheeks.

He didn’t seem afraid in the slightest.

It was as if he’d trust the elongated creature no matter what.

 

Lifting a strand of wild hair, the older sighed all of the tension out of his body in a relieved tone: “I don’t have that.”

“Hm? What?” his mother intervened, curious.

“That.” he repeated, pointing at the mole just above the other’s eyebrow, “I don’t have that. I have one here.” and he gently pressed just below the younger’s thin mouth, “But he doesn’t.”

Kim’s eyes widened, surprised to hear him disclose any sort of info about his face so calmly: “You have a beauty mark?”

Niamh giggled: “Fits damn well for the most beautiful out of all the older-than-time eaters of death, famine, pestilence and war!”

 

“I like animal skulls more.” Thaische spoke quietly, still dragging his fingers on his brother’s mask. 

 

Eska’s eyes lit up at the statement. He slithered behind the sofa, vanishing in a flash; barely a couple of moments later, a beautifully crafted wooden skull with twisting horns peered from above the pillow, sending the child’s mouth agape as his arms stiffened happily.

 

“The ram!” he whispered madly joyful.

“Yes.”

“Sometimes I see it in my dreams!”

“It does that.”

“The teeth mean it doesn’t eat meat!”

“Hm-hm.”

“And the eyes that it isn’t a predator!”

“Hm.”

“Because they are on the sides!”

“Yes.”

“If they were on the front it would!”

“Right.”

“I like it a lot!”

“Me too.”

“I want it!”

“It’s mine.”

“But I like it very much!”

“I’ll make you one.”

“You made it?”

“Yes.”

 

Thaische had the biggest smile when he raised his eyes from the mask in his hands.

 

“You’re good at it!”

 

Eska loved him.


End file.
